


Social Construct

by knockoutmouse



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But not in a creepy way, Canon Disabled Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Fernald is slightly possessive, Frottage, Gentle Sex, Headcanon: Henchperson is autistic, Henchperson is called Rory, Lingerie, Making Out, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Nonbinary Character, Not actually a first time fic, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knockoutmouse/pseuds/knockoutmouse
Summary: Brief discussion of the concept of virginity, but mostly just sex.





	Social Construct

**Author's Note:**

> Been feeling kind of uninspired lately and struggling with writing, so I did this to try to get back into it. Hope it's all right.

For some people, an easy shorthand for the length of a relationship was the number of dates they’d been on with their partner. But that wasn’t helpful to Fernald, since neither he nor Rory actually cared to go _out_ anywhere. Rory didn’t like loud, crowded places, and Fernald had already experienced enough stares from strangers to last him a lifetime. But, at some point, between all the times hanging around Olaf’s mansion or the theatre or one of their apartments, the nature of their relationship had gradually shifted from coworkers to friends to, quite recently, lovers. 

Tonight, the two of them were halfway through their second bottle of cheap red wine in Fernald’s living room when they officially gave up any pretense of paying attention to the horror film on TV-- _Banshees in the Launderette_ was even worse than _Zombies in the Snow_ , and, unsurprisingly, made by the same studio. 

Still, a few scenes in, Rory had been startled by a rather uninspired jump scare. They shrank back into the sofa cushions and clutched their blanket to their chest. 

“Are you all right?” Fernald asked. “We don’t have to keep watching this.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I was just--” They broke off, automatically grabbing Fernald’s arm as the heroine spun around and a scare chord played. 

Fernald raised his eyebrows. Rory glanced down at their own hands clutching at him, and guiltily let go. “Sorry.”

“I don’t exactly mind,” said Fernald, draping an arm around their shoulders and pulling them closer. “Although I’m not sure why you want to watch horror films if you’re frightened by them.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Rory told him, losing no time in cuddling up to him. “You’re supposed to get scared.”

“Well, I’m not,” said Fernald, and promptly jumped in surprise as a dark figure shrieked and swooped toward the camera. “Okay, fine, maybe a little,” he murmured grudgingly.

When the camera zoomed in for a sudden close up on a cackling banshee, Rory hid their face against Fernald’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, babe, I won’t let them get you,” he murmured, half teasing and half sincere. And the way Rory pressed themselves closer against him, hugging him tightly, was just too sweetly earnest, so that he couldn’t help but kiss them. 

The kiss turned heated, and the next thing Fernald knew, Rory was in his lap, kissing him hard, grasping at him anywhere they could reach. Fernald kissed their shoulder, nudging the neckline of their dress lower, inhaling the heated scent of their perfume as he buried his face against their chest. It was driving him mad, the feeling of their satin bra against his cheek--and it was the soft cup kind, so he could feel almost everything through the decadently silky cloth--their hardening nipples, the soft weight of their small breasts. Fernald kissed Rory over the heart, and he felt their fingers tighten their grip on his shoulders. 

Rory moved their hips against Fernald’s, their skirt riding up, the thin satin material of their panties the only thing covering them now. Fernald could feel how hard they were, rubbing against him, and he groaned in pleasure, muffling his cry with another kiss to their breast. He looked up at Rory and--God, they looked so--just amazing, a faint pink blush suffusing their cheeks, hair disheveled, panting and giving soft cries as they rocked against Fernald. 

“Fuck,” he managed. “You’re driving me crazy with that.”

“Yeah,” they breathed, kissing his throat, murmuring somewhat unintelligibly, “like that--keep talking to me.”

Talk to them? He felt like his brain was barely capable of coherent thought, let alone speech. 

“I--oh God--” he broke off as they rubbed against him again. “Do you feel how hard I am for you?”

They gave a shaky sigh and ground against him again, cupping their own breasts, giving a quiet, hitching moan. Okay, if this was what talking to them resulted in, he could find the wherewithal to keep doing it. 

“This feels incredible,” Fernald went on. Kissing their neck again, moving down to their shoulder. “I--I want to make you come.” They thrust against him, the pressure becoming almost unbearable. “God, I would love to fuck you right now...want to be inside you”

A soft, sharp intake of breath. Then: “Really?”

Fernald paused. Had he said the wrong thing? 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he reassured them quickly. “Sorry, I was just talking without thinking, I shouldn’t have--”

“I don’t, um, have anything against the idea,” said Rory, now blushing furiously and toying with the buttons of Fernald’s shirt. They glanced up shyly to meet his eyes. “But just so you know--I’ve never done that before.”

“You’re a _virgin_?” said Fernald in astonishment. 

Rory rolled their eyes. “Virginity isn’t even real. It’s just a social construct. Besides,” they added, “I’ve totally had sex before. You know that. _We’ve_ had sex. I’ve just never, you know, tried it in the exact way you...mentioned.”

“Yes. Right,” said Fernald. “You’re right. Do you--do you want to?”

“Yeah,” said Rory, and then a hint of doubt crept into their voice. “I mean, if--if I don’t like it, we can stop, right?”

“What!” Fernald was shocked. “Of course we’d stop. You know I’d never try to make you do anything you don’t want to, right?”

“I know,” said Rory, nuzzling at his cheek. 

“Besides, it’s only fun for me if you’re enjoying it.” Fernald sat up and looked at them seriously. “I don’t want to do anything that you don’t like.”

“What do _you_ want to do?” asked Rory.

Fernald kissed them again. “Just want to make you feel good,” he murmured. He lowered his head and kissed them on the throat, then raised his hips, his hard cock pressing against Rory’s, making them gasp. Their panties were damp with precome--Fernald knew his own boxers weren’t in any better condition, and they were both wearing far too much clothing for this--

“God,” moaned Fernald. “You can’t imagine everything I want to do to you.” He tipped Rory back onto the cushions, and they willingly parted their knees for him-- _for him_. That was a nice thought. 

Fernald shifted his position, kissing the soft skin of their inner thigh. “Take these off,” he said, his voice low but soft--an invitation, not a command. Rory eagerly stripped off their panties, and Fernald descended upon them, pressing light, teasing kisses to their cock, licking, moving slowly lower to take them all the way into his mouth--

“Not yet,” said Rory. “I’m going to come in, like, five seconds if you do that, and I don’t want to yet.”

Fernald sat back up. “Let me eat your ass,” he said impulsively, half expecting them to object or be shocked, but their reaction was only to whimper and nod and spread their legs further. 

“Yeah?” he asked, seeking confirmation.

“Yeah,” breathed Rory. 

“Turn over.”

Rory obeyed, and Fernald took a moment to appreciate the smooth, round curves of their ass before he leaned forward to kiss and lick them there. 

“Oh my God--”

Fernald didn’t stop to reply. He continued licking, first gently, then dragging his tongue harder over the sensitive spot. Rory cried out, thrusting their ass back against his mouth, and Fernald began to open them up, letting his tongue work its way inside them. 

“Ohhh _fuck_ \--that feels--don’t stop, ohmygod--”

Rory was moaning now, roughly cupping their own breasts with both hands, pinching their nipples. Fernald wasn’t surprised that they weren’t touching their cock yet--he’d already figured out that they liked to be teased, to be brought nearly to the edge for as long as they could stand it. The sound of their cries made Fernald want them even more desperately--most of all, he wanted them to keep making that sound. The muscles of their thighs tensed and quivered as their moans grew louder. Then--

“Wait,” said Rory.

Fernald paused. For a moment, Rory didn’t speak. Without turning around, they said, voice low and trembling, “Fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

Rory quickly turned and kissed him hard. “God, yes, please--I need you inside me, now.”

“Not so fast,” said Fernald, and Rory gave a groan of frustration. “Shh,” he said, and kissed them again. “Soon. I just want to make sure you’re ready.”

“I _feel_ ready.”

“I didn’t mean emotionally.”

“Neither did I.”

“Come with me,” said Fernald, and led Rory to the bedroom. Fernald retrieved a bottle of lube from his dresser, offering it to Rory. 

“Start with one finger,” he instructed. “I wish I could help, but...”

Rory let their dress slip off their shoulders to the floor, and tossed their bra after it. Fernald undressed and removed his prosthetics as Rory opened the bottle and poured the clear liquid onto their fingers. 

“Lie down,” said Fernald. “I want to watch.”

Now blushing again, almost shy, Rory lay down on their side, reaching behind their back. Their eyes widened slightly as they easily slid one finger into themselves, almost as if they were surprised. Rory touched themselves experimentally, closing their eyes, adding a second finger. They rocked gently against their own hand, giving a soft sigh. 

“You’ve done _this_ before though, right?” Fernald wondered aloud. 

Rory shook their head, and Fernald found himself even more turned on, now knowing that he was watching them experience this for the first time. When they opened their eyes again, they seemed surprised to see Fernald standing over them completely naked, rubbing his own erection against his forearm as he watched them finger themselves. 

“I thought that was for me,” they murmured. 

“Well, I can’t let you have all the fun,” said Fernald. “Besides,” he said, moving closer, joining them on the bed, “do you really expect me to watch you like that and _not_ do anything about it?”

“You don’t have to just watch,” suggested Rory.

“One more,” said Fernald, and it took Rory a second to work out what he meant. 

“Oh,” they said. In another moment, they were biting their lip, trying to suppress their whimpers as they fucked themselves with three fingers. 

“Do you know how hot it is to watch you do that?” asked Fernald.

“I don’t--oh,” Rory broke off in surprise as they angled their wrist forward, and, apparently, found their prostate. “ _Oh_. Oh my God.”

“Enjoying yourself?” asked Fernald with a smirk. 

“I--I mean, I’d _heard_ \--but I’ve never actually--” They gave a shaky gasp and tipped their head back against the pillow. Fernald imagined their cock must be absolutely aching by now, glistening with precome, and he _wanted_ it. Perhaps next time. 

“I could suck you off while you finger yourself,” he suggested, “if you like it that much.”

“No, I--I want you.”

“All right. How do you want to do this?”

“Can I be on top?” they asked. 

‘Of course.” Fernald lay down on the bed next to them. Fleetingly, he wondered whether they’d made the request because they were still nervous, but before he could give it any serious thought, Rory was on top of him and had taken his cock in their hand, gently guiding it into them. Fernald gasped as the head of his cock slid inside them. 

“Is this okay?” asked Rory.

Fernald couldn’t form the words to express just how okay it was, but he nodded enthusiastically, and Rory slowly sank down onto him, shifting their position, trying to find _that_ spot again.

“Are you--do you like it?” Fernald managed, trying to keep still. 

“I think so?” They moved, rolling their hips, and gave a soft gasp. “That’s--nice.”

“Can I move?” asked Fernald. 

“Yeah. Just--be gentle?”

Fernald rocked his hips, letting Rory bounce against him without withdrawing very much. Seeing them like that, feeling them tighten around him--Fernald needed to grab hold of something; the best he could manage was to wrap his arms around Rory’s waist and pull them down closer. 

“Talk to me some more,” they told him.

“This feels amazing--being with you like this--can’t believe you’re letting me do this”

Rory lifted themselves up nearly off him and sank back down, giving a whimper and rolling their hips harder. 

“Not like that,” they said. “I mean with, like, more dirty words.”

“Oh. Right.” Fernald considered for a moment, his train of thought derailed as Rory began to move again. Fernald cried out, and tried desperately to come up with something sexy to say, searching his mind for snippets of half-remembered porno dialogue.

“I--how do you like taking it up the ass? Are you getting off on it?”

“God, yes.”

“Do you like getting fucked like this?” Fernald thrust upwards, harder. “Riding a huge cock?”

“I mean, it’s not _that_ \--mmm,” they broke off, perhaps thinking better of what they’d been going to say, or perhaps, Fernald thought as Rory clutched at him, because he was pretty sure he’d just hit their prostate. 

“Right there,” they whispered. “Fuck me. Don’t stop.”

Fernald was happy to oblige. He was glad they’d chosen this position--watching Rory above him, steadily losing control as he thrust into them. They rode him harder, finally giving in and beginning to rapidly stroke their cock with one hand, pinching and playing with one of their nipples with the other.

“I’m--I’m going to come soon,” gasped Fernald, trying to hold back even as he spoke. 

Rory gave a cry as they finished, spilling over onto their own hand and Fernald’s heated skin. Fernald was pretty sure he would have come immediately from watching that even if he hadn’t been as close as he was, and the feeling of them spasming around his cock--he let go, and--yes, that must be his own voice crying out wordlessly, powerless to do anything except surrender to the overwhelming sensation. 

By the time Fernald could think clearly again, Rory had moved off him and now lay against his side, cheek resting against his shoulder, a very faint smile on their lips. 

Fernald kissed the top of their head. “What do you think? Tolerable, or never again?”

“That was nice. Thank you.”

Fernald raised his eyebrows. “Nice?”

“Okay, maybe _nice_ isn’t the word,” admitted Rory. “Um...that was really hot and I definitely want to do it again.” They paused, and their face lit up as another possibility occurred to them. “Maybe I can do that to you sometime?”

Fernald grinned. “I was hoping you would.”


End file.
